


Fuse

by Sally_Port



Series: Components [2]
Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 21:53:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5391722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sally_Port/pseuds/Sally_Port
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Apparently being a Matheson means family member baggage may have more effect on your relationship than your own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fuse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ImLuvinMyThesaurus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImLuvinMyThesaurus/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Matches](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1405663) by [Sally_Port](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sally_Port/pseuds/Sally_Port). 



6 August 2028

Charlie finished rinsing her cereal bowl, dropping it into the dishwasher and she yawned, stretching the muscles in her back and arms that had tightened up since she'd gotten up that morning and spent two hours finishing a research paper on hit-and-run scene debris. Having finally decided to focus on a career as a evidence technician, hopefully working at the Illinois State Crime Lab, she was catching up on some English pre-requisites she'd neglected in favor of science classes but she'd chosen a subject that she'd been studying. She turned to smile at Bass as he walked into the kitchen. He was barefoot, hair rumpled from sleep as he kissed her on the side of the head. 

"Your Mom called," he yawned, wandering over to the sink and filling a glass of water. "She and your Dad are coming to lunch today."

"Mom called you?" Charlie asked and he shook his head.

"She called you. You'd left your phone on the nightstand and I answered it."

"Oh." It was reflex to pat the pocket of her leggings and it made him grin, though he was still blinking. His hip had hurt bad enough last night she'd convinced him to take one of the pain pills he hated -- that alone was enough to worry her; Bass normally preferred to just suffer-through. "How are you feeling this morning?"

She mentally kicked herself as soon as the words were out of her mouth. He usually hated sympathy for the after-effects of a parachute not opening on a training jump when he had been a Marine. Even now, seven years later, Charlie remembered the ashen look on her dad's face as he'd gathered them all up to let him know the call he'd just gotten was from his brother, Miles, and that Bass might die.

But Bass just yawned, scratching his bare shoulder. He was wearing one of Miles' older t-shirts with the sleeves ripped out, "Parris Island Instructor" stamped in faded red letters against dingy-gray cotton with a frayed collar and hem. His tan board shorts were in slightly better shape but not much and he looked more like a grad student coming off a bender than a respected psychologist and author. He joked recently he'd been starting to get annoyed at being mistaken for early thirties when he was actually mid-forties but that it had its advantages because at least no one had mistaken her for his daughter. Or at least not recently, Charlie thought, remembering vacations spent with Miles and Bass when she had been younger and everyone had assumed she was the adopted daughter of that nice gay couple. Miles had always been annoyed by the assumption that two men couldn't just be friends but Bass had usually just laughed and called Miles "sweetheart" or something else cheesy.

"I'm not too bad. Feels like someone hit me across the head with an axe in the middle of the night but that's probably just my imagination."

"Yup." She wandered over to the granite counter and dropped into the stool, carefully gathering her note cards together. Her paper was typed but since she would most likely have to revise it after the initial draft was graded, she was trying to keep them in sequence. "I didn't have an axe. Miles would have threatened to smother you with a pillow, though, if he'd have been here."

Bass winced. "I was snoring, wasn't I."

She nodded, getting up to walk over and kiss his bare shoulder. "Yeah. It wasn't too bad." It had been appalling. Bass was normally a pretty light sleeper who didn't snore but the medication had put him under hard and she'd wrestled him into the position that seemed to get him the most air but she'd still dozed lightly, worried that he'd stop breathing.

"If the way my throat feels is any indication, you're lying. But I love you for it. Miles ever come home from his date last night?"

Charlie shook her head, going back to her note cards and Bass sighed. "We might have a problem then. He was supposed to go to the grocery store."

"We can always go somewhere for lunch."

"I'd rather not if I don't have to. I'll figure something out." Since Bass was a good -- and usually inventive -- cook, Charlie didn't doubt it but he stood in front of the open fridge, and the angle of his face she could see was creased into a slight frown.

"I can run to the store if you need something."

"Yeah, probably will need to. . .let me figure out what I'm making first."

She re-checked a section of her paper where she'd been doubtful on the phrasing earlier and decided that some simple re-wording would clean up her least-favorite part. She was pecking at the keys on her laptop when Bass sighed.

"You'd think two responsible adults would be able to keep a fridge stocked," Bass commented as he wandered to a cupboard.

"It's not normally a problem," she said, glancing up and smiling at him.

"No. But Miles and I both had late meetings pretty much every night this week so we were both putting it off. I should have thought of it before I invited your parents over."

"So call them back and tell them today isn't going to work. They'll understand." It was the wrong thing to say, she realized, as soon as she said it and she saw the frustration in his eyes and the set of his jaw and she hopped off the stool to go wrap her arms around him. The tension in this muscles matched his rigid posture and she kissed him on the neck. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

"You shouldn't have to be sorry," he said, his voice as tightly controlled as his body. "I. . . ."

"You survived a fall out of an airplane. You walk. Hell, you do mixed martial arts." He had taken up the sport to help keep himself flexible and he'd been good so he'd pushed himself harder than Charlie thought was probably good for him but that was Bass and Miles both in everything they did.

"You just shouldn't have to deal with --"

"Bullshit," she said, trying to keep a smile on her face but she could feel how close to the surface her panic was edging. If she had a phobia in their relationship it was that he was going to leave her because he thought he was too old and too broken and she deserved someone young and whole, even though she'd loved him since she'd been a child. "Don't tell me what I need. You don't think I pity Danny because he has asthma and a bad heart?"

"See, you grew up with a brother who had medical problems. You shouldn't have to put up with --" He broke off as she wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled his face to her, melding their lips together and slipping her tongue into his mouth. He didn't respond for a few moments but then his hands slipped around her back to pull her closer to him.

After a few minutes of kissing he stepped away, smiling wryly, one hand dropping to massage the hip that had been the most recent of his body parts to have surgery. "Well, that's one way to win the argument," he said softly and she nodded. "And maybe even slightly more effective than Miles telling me to shut up and stop whining."

"Shut up and stop whining," she whispered, kissing him again, then adding, "dick," because it was exactly what Miles would do. Bass laughed, the lines at his eyes crinkling, and she lost the cold chill at the pit of her stomach because this particular problem would crop up again but it was finished for right now.

"Okay, now you're just doing that on purpose," he whispered, tonguing her ear into his mouth and she felt every nerve in her body respond to him but she heard keys in the lock and Bass growled slightly. "And his timing is perfect." He started to step away from her but Charlie locked her arms, burying her head into Bass' shoulder and he patted her on the shoulder. "It's okay," he murmured. "I'm not going anywhere."

"See," Miles groaned as he walked in, dropping his keys into a ceramic tray that rested on the table by the door, "this is why I don't bring people home." Charlie looked over to see a dark-haired woman standing behind him. She looked about Bass' age but since Bass also looked a good deal younger than he was, Charlie wasn't sure how old she was but she had creamy-golden skin that might have been latin-american or middle eastern. He glared at the two of them for a moment before stalking over and smacking Bass on the back of the head.

"Ow, what the hell?" Bass protested.

"That's for being an ass, dick." He studied Charlie's face for a moment. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she replied, continually surprised at how intuitive Miles could be, even if he pretended not to be."

Miles studied her cautiously, then nodded, as if believing her. "Nora, this is my niece, Charlie. Charlie, this is Nora. We work together."

"Hey," the woman said, extending her hand and shaking Charlie's with a firm grip. "Nice to meet you. Your uncle has talked about you a lot."

"Likewise," Charlie said, even though she'd actually gotten very little about Nora from Miles; most of her information had come from Bass. "You're the one who's the bomb tech, aren't you?"

"Arson investigator," Miles corrected and Nora shrugged.

"Close enough. I used to be a bomb-tech but I transferred to arson about six months ago. It helps to know what you're looking at when you get to a scene."

"And since," Miles commented, walking over the bookcase next to the fireplace, "a surprising number of people try to burn bodies, we have three cases we're working together right now."

"It's amazing," Charlie said, recalling some of her classes on the subject, "that in trying to get rid of evidence, they create so much more."

"Job security," Bass said. "Miles, I don't suppose you happened to stop by the grocery store on your way here."

"No, why?" But after a moment Miles' eyes flicked towards the kitchen and he sighed. "I said I was going to last night, didn't I?"

"Yeah. Ben and Rachel are coming over for lunch but I think we'll just go out."

Miles' eyebrows rose and Charlie was surprised to see Nora's do the same and Miles grabbed a notebook off the shelf. "Um, Nora, got what I was looking for. Let's go."

The woman's mouth turned up into a particularly evil smile and she turned the full force of it on Bass. "Lunch, huh?"

Charlie could see Bass containing a smile of his own. "Uh-huh. You're welcome to join us, of course."

"Why, thank you. I believe I will."

Miles shot a glance at Bass that clearly called him a traitor. "Nora, I will buy you lunch. And dinner. And even breakfast tomorrow but I would really like to be out of here. We can--"

Nora snorted, "Not a chance. I've been wanting to meet Rachel for ages."

"I need a drink," Miles groaned, dropping the notebook onto the couch and heading for the room he and Bass used as offices, where they kept the good whiskey.

"That's mean," Bass laughed and Nora shrugged.

"After hearing the two of you talk about her. . .can you blame me?" Bass shook his head and Charlie wasn't sure if she should feel sorry for her uncle or impressed by Nora's tactics.

"Charlie, can you pick a place and call to make some reservations. Brunch on a Sunday is bound to be crowded but --"

Nora had walked past him to the fridge, opened it and stared at the contents for a moment. "I could do something with this," she commented and Bass shrugged.

"Be my guest. I'd rather eat here anyway but I wasn't sure."

"It'll be a little non-traditional Mexican but it'll taste good. It should be ready in less than two-hours."

"That's fine," Charlie said. "What time did you tell them."

"Eleven-thirty." It was just after ten. "If they have to wait it's not a problem."

Nora had piled corn tortilla shells on the counter, along with a carton of eggs, the gallon of milk, a block of cheddar and half an onion.

"Charlie, could you slice these into strips about an inch wide?" she asked. "Then cut the strips into about four pieces."

"Yeah," Charlie said, picking up the tortillas and carrying them over to near her computer. Nora handed her a knife and a cutting board she'd pulled from one of the drawers. She clearly, Charlie realized, was no stranger to Miles' kitchen and Charlie tried to not let the surprise show on her face. She'd been in-and-out of Miles' and Bass' house since they'd bought it after they'd come back to Illinois after they'd left the Marine Corps and she'd practically lived there the last month since she and Bass had started sleeping together. She wished she could classify their relationship beyond the fact they shared a bed but Bass seemed reluctant and she knew it was because he was worried about their age difference and his injuries.

"Bass," Nora continued. "Can you grate cheese for me?" She went back to cracking eggs into a bowl when he nodded. The other woman used the whole dozen before adding a generous splash of milk and indicated to Charlie that her growing pile of tortilla strips was enough. She pulled out a casserole dish and greased the bottom of it with olive oil while Charlie chopped the onion into rough pieces.

Miles emerged from his study, glowering and clearly still stone-cold sober but he looked a little cheered when he saw whatever Nora was making. "Well," he remarked to no one in particular, "at least my last meal is going to be a good one."

"Please," Nora snorted, "it won't be your last meal. You only wish it would be. Stop being a martyr and find me a couple cans of green chilies. I think I left some behind the olives a few months ago." Miles came up with five cans of chilies and she nodded. "I just need two." She added those to the egg mixture along with some spices, half the cheese and the onions before she arranged the tortillas in the pan and poured the eggs into it.

"So what is that," Charlie asked, nodding at the oven as Nora put the dish into it.

"Real Chile Rellanos are chilies stuffed with cheese, breaded and fried. They were my great-Aunt's favorite but she couldn't eat them anymore since she'd had her gall-bladder removed. My mother adapted this recipe for Tia Anna. It's a lot healthier and also a lot faster."

"And really good," Miles added. He looked slightly more resigned and Nora walked over to bump her shoulder with his.

"Don't worry about it. Plenty of people have to deal with introducing ex-lovers."

"So you two have known each other a while then," Charlie commented. "How long?" Nora shrugged. 

"Depends on what you mean by 'know?' But really, what, seven years?"

"Eight," Miles confirmed. "Nora was Naval EOD. Our last mission in Afghanistan," he explained to Charlie, "we did security for her team for a few months." The last deployment, Charlie recalled, had been after she'd confronted him about his affair with Rachel but before Bass' accident. "We all spent a couple of months stationed in Camp Pendleton afterwards. Then Nora went to Iraq and Bass had his date with the tree and we lost touch."

"So how'd you end up in Chicago?" Charlie asked and Nora shrugged.

"I was walking through the PX one day and saw the name 'Sebastian Monroe' on a stack of books. I thought it was probably just a coincidence -- someone with the same name as a guy I'd known -- but I picked it up and saw the picture of him and Miles in the back. When I read bio-blurb about what had happened, I hunted up Miles' number and called to find out how he and Bass were doing. We kept in touch on-and-off since then. Two years ago I was getting ready to leave the Navy and was going to move to New York because my younger sister was getting out of a bad relationship; then Miles suggested Chicago and Mia agreed to she'd be better moving out of New York so I got a job here."

It was interesting, Charlie decided, that neither Bass or Miles had mentioned the woman until a month ago but there was clearly something between her and Miles that had gone back a long time.

"Well I did come back for my old notebook," Miles commented, "because there are a couple of similarities between one of the cases we're working and one I had about three years ago where we never were able to come up with a suspect. Nora, while your stuff is baking, want to go over old case notes with me?"

"You always did know how to show a girl a good time," Nora said, one corner of her mouth quirking up but she walked out of the kitchen and Miles followed her up the stairs. Bass watched them with a bemused smile and Charlie felt her own eyebrows go up.

"They're. . .they're not going upstairs to look at old case notes, are they?" she asked and Bass shrugged.

"I'm sure they'll get around to it."

From the conversations the two men had discussed in front of her, she'd known Miles had been semi-dating a co-worker but she had thought it was casual and this seemed anything-but. "How is it possible I've never met this woman before?"

Bass shrugged again, then sighed. "Because if Miles admitted he actually felt emotions for any woman other than your mother. . .I honestly don't know how he'd do with it. Hell, I don't know how she'd do with it. I love your family," he leaned in and kissed her, his tongue stroking along hers and his hands dropped from her waist to her hips then slid backwards until he was cupping her ass and dragging her against him, "but they're fucked up."

"Uh-huh," she managed, looping her arms over his shoulders and turning her head slightly so he could kiss his way along her ear. He'd just moved his lips to her throat when she heard footsteps on the porch and he growled slightly before the door opened.

"Hey guys," Danny said then smiled as he saw their position. "Never mind me. Miles texted me and told me I'd better be here for lunch. Something about Mom and Dad and Nora all being here."

"You know about Nora?" Charlie asked, not exactly pulling away from Bass but shifting a little to get a better look at her brother.

"Yeah. Miles was having some trouble getting a program to run on his computer and the software tech at work wasn't having any luck with it so Miles asked me to stop by when the tech was there. He took me to lunch after we figured out what was wrong with it and Nora came with us."

"And you didn't tell me about her?"

Danny smirked just slightly. "Charlie, this was the day after you'd told me you were spending the weekend here because Miles was going to be at his girlfriend's place. Kind of thought you already knew."

"I knew he was sort-of dating someone. But I'd never met her or heard her name. And you," she glanced at Bass, "just called her the bomb-tech. Like she was someone he'd just met. Not someone he'd hooked up with back when I was 14."

Danny's eyes flicked at Bass then away so fast Charlie thought she'd mistaken the look until she noticed the way Bass wasn't meeting her eyes either.

"Wait a second," she said, hearing her own voice like a stranger was speaking it. "Those months in Camp Pendleton. She was with Miles, wasn't she?"

"I'm not sure I'd necessarily say she was WITH Miles," Bass said, stepping away from Charlie and moving to the sink. They'd done the dishes as they'd prepared whatever it was Nora had made and Bass started putting them away even though Charlie was pretty sure they weren't dry yet. "We'd had a pretty tough mission. Granted, Miles and I had mostly settled in by the time Nora got back -- about four months later, I think. But that was the perfect excuse to get drunk a lot those few months. Yeah, they slept together but they slept with a lot of other people too."

She'd known he wasn't a virgin, she reflected, and she'd even met women he'd dated plenty of times. But she'd never, she realized, met someone he'd been with now that he was with her. It was absolutely no different, she tried to tell herself but she felt her throat knot and the words, "You said she wasn't your type," spill out her mouth.

Danny snorted. "Charlie, guys don't usually care about types when they're drunk."

She ignored him as Bass' softer, "And she wasn't," came over his shoulder.

She focused on breathing, slowly, and walked over to drop onto one of the chairs at the kitchen island. "That bowl's still wet," she forced herself to say as normally as possible and Bass' gaze shifted towards her then went back to the bowl he was about to put in the cupboard. "I mean," she said, "you always yell at Miles when he puts things away wet."

Bass hand shifted to feel the inside of the bowl and he nodded as he put it back onto the drainboard. "Good point."

Danny was glancing between them as if he was worried but then he sat down next to her. He'd known, she realized, and wondered how, unless Miles had told him and she couldn't think why.

Bass came over to rest his hip against her side and put his arm over her shoulder. "I was hoping you wouldn't put it together. It was a really long time ago. In fact, as drunk as we both were, the whole thing was kind of a blur."

"Don't you wish you could say the same about Emma," she teased, knowing he still felt bad about sleeping with Miles' high-school sweetheart before they'd graduated. It hadn't been until she'd heard that he might die that Emma had contacted Miles and told him about the pregnancy she'd hidden and the child that her older brother and his wife had adopted. Connor had been 18 at the time and when Miles had spoken to him he had made it very clear that he was sorry for his biological father and knew he hadn't been abandoned on purpose but that he'd had a good life on his Uncle's ranch in New Mexico and no desire to move or start a new family. He'd eventually visited and had been friendly and polite but completely uninterested and though he and Bass still spoke occasionally, Charlie hadn't seen him since the first visit a year after Bass' accident. Bass had flown to New Mexico a few times but Connor hadn't come to Chicago again.

Her comment won her an exasperated glare and she felt the knot in her throat loosen and the swamping feeling of panic faded to just that familiar paranoia that one day he would justify leaving her for her own good."

"Below the belt, Charlie," Danny said, rising from his seat but he patted her arm, smiling slightly.

"Yeah well, he had time to warn me and he didn't. What have you two been doing? Avoiding having her over so I wouldn't meet her?" She thought of the easy, friendly greeting between Nora and Bass that had been so absolutely unselfconscious. "Wait, she knows about you and I, right?"

"Yes," Bass replied immediately. "I wasn't kidding when I said we meant nothing to each other. That wasn't a good month. . .for a lot of reasons."

She saw Danny wince and she said, "Month?" faintly, but at least she lacked the earlier sensation of hearing words she hadn't known she'd spoken. "Wait, how long were you two. . . ."

"Less than five. More than three."

"I said how long, not how often," she remarked, hearing the acid politeness in her voice and he shrugged.

"I probably was with a woman nearly every night for about a month. Probably only sober for one or two of those nights. Like I said. Blur."

"That's only about 17 percent of a month," Danny commented. "Assuming it was five times. Thirteen percent if it was four and 10 percent if it was three times. Of course that also assumes it was 30 days in the month. Because it it was 31 days it was 16, 12 and nine percent, respectively." Her brother's face fell and she craned her head to get a better look at Bass' face, which was something she could only describe as a mixture between shock and annoyance but oddly, the calculations made Charlie feel better, even as Danny ventured, "Too soon?" in a tentative voice.

"Well," Charlie said, "you kind of played fast and loose rounding because it's really only 16.6 if it was five times in 30 days so you rounded that one up to 17. But if it was four times in 31 days then it was 12.9 percent but you rounded it down to 12, not up to 13."

Bass' kiss caught her on the ear and she felt his grip tighten on her shoulder. "You know, every time I think I understand you two. . .yes, it was a shitty month. I have no idea how many days were in it. . .in fact, I doubt it fell in line with the calendar. As as to the frequency, well, the exact number has never quite been settled. One of us might have hallucinated. . .or the other one might have been black-out-drunk. Which is possible. We decided a long time ago we really didn't care to talk about it."

"So what was Miles' percentage of time with her?" Danny asked and Bass shrugged. "Higher. Well, maybe not during that particular month -- though before and after it was. He was kind of on a self-hatred kick. It was why we were all drinking so much and she'd get pissed at him. Mostly she found other guys but a few times. . .well, we thought it might snap him out of it."

"Not if it involved my Mom," Charlie sighed, vaguely remembering her mother being unusually bad-tempered not long after Miles had come home from Afghanistan and had found excuses that then fourteen-year-old Charlie had known were unreasonable for why visits weren't possible and even phone calls were short and infrequent. She'd wondered at Ben's seeming indifference but one day he had come in when Charlie and Rachel had been arguing and he hadn't said anything, but he'd sighed and handed Charlie his phone. The fight between Ben and Rachel had been conducted in their room in whispers and by the time they'd emerged she'd had a tentative date for a visit. She hadn't thought much about it -- she'd often considered Rachel to be unreasonable but she wondered what particular thing had set her off then.

"What, her sleeping with other guys or her sleeping with you?" Danny asked and Bass gave him the look again but this time Danny didn't seem to care

"Her and I. . .we never really talked about it. I think we both just wanted Miles but he wasn't there and the other one of us was." Something in her voice warned Charlie that he didn't want to talk about whatever had been going on with Miles and even Danny appeared to notice because he went to stare at the oven. 

"Something smells good. What's for lunch?"

"Nora made it," Bass sighed and Charlie felt her lips curl up just slightly.

"You invited her to stay," she reminded him and he snorted.

"Yeah, well, all I was thinking of was twitting Miles. I had no idea you'd pick up on. . .everything else. And I'm really not sure I thought through all the ramifications of pissing off your mother."

This time it was Danny who snorted but no one said anything else because they heard the footsteps on the porch. Danny, Charlie reflected, really didn't need to announce, "They're here," in such an ominous tone.

 

Charlie decided she imagined the awkwardness of the first greeting when her parents walked in, Ben holding a bottle of wine that they'd immediately opened and poured. It was a Napa Valley Vineyards muscato, a sweet golden dessert wine that wasn't really appropriate for before dinner if any of them had cared about wine-pairings, but the small bottle was one of Ben's favorites. She'd been dreading the moment when Nora and Miles would come downstairs as they chatted about subjects like Bass' book he was working on, Charlie and Danny's classes or whatever project Ben and Rachel doing -- Charlie still had no idea even after they started to explain it and even Danny seemed a little unsure of the details.

"That smells good," Rachel commented. "I can't wait to try it." She looked over at Bass, clearly thinking he'd made it and Charlie saw him wince just a little, though he covered it well.

"Not sure it's ready quite yet," Bass said, peeking in the oven. "I think --"

He trailed off as the front door banged open and Miles and Nora walked in, Miles holding a small grocery bag. "Hey, sorry we're late," Miles apologized, walking over to bump his shoulder against Ben's. "We were out of sour cream. This is Nora. . .she's an arson investigator with ISP."

"Hi," Charlie's father said, extending his hand. "I'm Ben. Since Miles' didn't see fit to complete the introduction."

"Hey," Nora said back, shaking his hand. "Well, that's Miles for you."

"Isn't it," Rachel added, going through the same handshaking, giving her name and adding, "I'm his sister-in-law, Rachel."

"Ah," Nora said, as if this was news and Charlie realized Miles hadn't introduced them because he hadn't needed to. But it had been sloppy in his part, Charlie decided, if he was hoping to keep up the pretense they were just friends. Charlie, however, was actually more surprised that the pair she'd last seen headed up the stairs had come in the front door without seeming to leave the house, let alone have time to get to the store and back with sour cream. Especially, she realized, darting a glance at the cabinet where Miles had dumped his keys when he'd first walked in, since he clearly hadn't taken his car and her casual walk to the front door didn't show a vehicle outside that didn't belong to her family.

Pouring wine got them over the awkwardness that could have followed but then Bass walked back to the oven. "Hey, Nora, can you come check this? I'm pretty sure it's done but since this was your recipe, I'd like another opinion." Charlie saw Rachel's gaze sharpen as the two of them bent over to stare at the casserole dish and poke it with forks.

The problem was, Charlie realized, was that there just wasn't any hesitation when he held out a steaming bite and she lipped it off the fork he was holding with no hesitation or attempt to take it from him. She wasn't bitter, Charlie realized with surprise. She'd heard enough stories about people serving together to know it created a totally different level of trust but from the way Rachel's eyes were narrowing and Miles clearly wasn't intending to volunteer Nora's military background and their service, her mother was drawing the wrong conclusion. It wasn't even wrong," Charlie thought, but it was such a small part of the story and Nora had clearly decided discretion was the better part of valor and was sticking far closer to Bass than she was to Miles. Bass didn't help, Charlie realized, by looking guilty, though he was clearly only worried she would be upset and hadn't noticed Rachel's smile growing colder.

It didn't help either that the casserole was absolutely delicious, even without the sour cream that Charlie noted hadn't even made it to the table.

"We never even thought about dessert," Bass confessed when they'd cleared the plates. "I can check and see if we have any ice cream."

"We don't," Miles confessed, wrapping the remains of the dish with foil and putting it in the fridge.

"That's okay," Ben said. "After that, I'm not sure I could eat anything else for a while anyway. Nora, can I get the recipe from you? I'd love to make that again."

"Of course," Nora smiled. The woman was looking a lot more comfortable but her eyes flicked to Rachel's face, then to Charlie's as if she recognized something was wrong. But since she was clearly more worried about her present relationship with Miles and not her ancient past with Monroe, she moved closer to Bass again and Charlie watched her mother's face move from suspicion to full outrage and she grabbed Rachel's arm just before the breath that she'd drawn in could form words.

"I'm just going to run to the store and grab some ice cream. Mom, come with me." Rachel's face reflected her anger but Charlie managed to get her more-or-less oriented towards the wall where no one else could see it.

"You don't need to do that, Charlie," Ben protested but she smiled, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek.

"Yes I do. I've been wanting ice cream all day."

"Cravings," Danny snickered and his uncle flicked him on the ear but it was enough to just about set her mother off again and she didn't wait to protest it wasn't cravings. Her keys and wallet were upstairs but she grabbed Rachel's purse from the couch and Miles' keys from beside the door.

Rachel glared at her but didn't protest, even when Charlie handed her the keys. Miles' 1967 Pontiac GTO was a maroon so dark it was almost black and Rachel started it with a clinical coldness that didn't bode well for anyone, ever. Charlie waited until Rachel had the car moving, handling the gears with an efficiency that always astounded Charlie; as if there wasn't anything Rachel couldn't do and the madder she got, the better she did it.

"It was a long time ago," she finally said. "Before his accident." It wasn't exactly the conversation she wanted to have but it was better than having Rachel pissed at Bass for the next decade.

"Then what's she doing here now?" Rachel snapped and a tiny part of Charlie warmed that her mother was so upset on her behalf.

"She works with Miles. He's the one who brought her. Not Bass."

"No, I mean, if it was so long ago, why is she even still around. I'm not an idiot, Charlie, and you're not either. You had to see the way she stuck to him." Rachel sighed, as if making a huge concession. "I'm not saying he's cheating on you or ever would, but that woman is trouble. Get rid of her and make sure this time she stays gone."

"I'm not going to kill her," Charlie said, smiling a little but feeling it fade when Rachel didn't smile back.

"I can't believe Bass would have her around you. And Miles would have to know. What was he thinking?" She heard profound irritation in her mother's voice but no hint of suspicion, even if Rachel did take the corner too fast and drift slightly into the other lane. Rachel corrected it, shifting gears just a little roughly for the first time and Charlie realized Rachel had been so worried about her that she hadn't even considered herself. 

It was a nice change and made her feel worse but she took a deep breath, steeling herself as she said, "She's not with Bass, she's with Miles."

Rachel didn't downshift as she turned into the parking lot at the grocery store and the engine lugged, nearly killing it but her mother mashed the clutch in and she pulled into a parking space. "What?"

"Remember when you told me Miles was spending time with a co-worker and you were pretty sure it meant Bass had a girlfriend and then I told you it was me?" Rachel nodded, the motion ungraceful and Charlie noticed she hadn't even released the clutch, that the car was still in gear and just idling. Charlie reached over and switched off the engine, pulling out the keys. Rachel opened her door when Charlie did and they met up at the hood. "Well that was Nora. She and Miles and Bass have known each other for years."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'd have known about it," Rachel said, sounding as if she so desperately wanted to be sure that Charlie put her hand on Rachel's arm.

"Remember when Miles and Bass got back from Afghanistan their last trip. Before Bass' accident?" Whatever memories she had of that time obviously hadn't been good because Rachel wiped eyes that were suddenly shiny and her shoulders hunched like she was a frightened little girl and Charlie almost felt guilty for the screaming fits she'd thrown and the threats to run away again if she didn't get to talk to Miles. "That was when she and Bass. . .but well, when it all got sorted out, it wasn't Nora and Bass. . .it was Nora and Miles." Whatever had really gone on between the three of them, that was probably the best explanation she could come up with and the rest would be up to Miles to eventually share, if he ever did.

"Oh," Rachel said, her tone abruptly soft. "I wondered why he. . . ." She trailed off her words, shook her head and Charlie nearly had to run to catch up with her as Rachel turned and walked towards the store.

By the time she caught up with her Mother, Rachel clearly didn't want to talk about it anymore and she compared ice-cream labels like she was picking an engineer contract; debating ingredient merits to flavor and price. Charlie eventually grabbed a container of vanilla and one of chocolate-chip mint, just to get them to the checkout register. Rachel dug a credit card out of her purse and paid for it but Charlie didn't hand the keys over again when Rachel held out her hand for them.

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

"You don't have your license," Rachel commented but Charlie shrugged.

"I'll risk it. We're probably less likely to get pulled over if I'm driving." She was a little worried that Rachel didn't disagree with her. Wrecking on purpose was probably far more dramatic than even Rachel would go. . .but Charlie wasn't so sure she wasn't capable of scraping a tire or a fender or a mirror in a passive but not-so-subtle "fuck you" to Miles. From the fey smile on Rachel's face, her mother knew exactly what she was thinking.

The ride back to Miles and Bass' house was silent other than the growl-purr of the engine. Rachel rode with her head leaned back, eyes closed but clearly not asleep and it wasn't until they parked again that Charlie spoke. "You're always talking about to Miles and Bass about needing to settle down. Is it so bad that maybe Miles finally is?"

"Are they engaged?" Her mother's tone was perfectly rational, her face completely serene. Her eyes, however, were still closed and Charlie wondered what she'd have seen if Rachel would have opened them.

"I'm pretty sure they're not. I mean, anything's possible. But I didn't meet her until today. He's been trying to give Bass and I space, I think."

"Then why are they here today?"

"They came over to get a notebook and stayed to help. Nora's heard a lot about you and wanted to meet the family."

"And you don't mind about her and Bass?"

"I. . .was surprised at first. Yeah, I got a little upset for a few minutes but it's not like I thought I was the first woman he's slept with. I knew there had been others and you had to have known the same thing about Miles."

The sigh and smile on Rachel's face weren't happy and her mother shook her head. "But I never expected to have to deal with them. I know what I told them. I even thought I meant it." She got out of the car, barely even slamming the door and Charlie followed her up the steps, the ice cream bag cutting marks into Rachel's fingers from the force of her grip.

Once back inside, Rachel was all smiles and she joined in the conversation about a paper Danny was working on about robotics. Though Nora clearly didn't follow all the technical detail she was able to talk about the practical use of robots from her days with EOD, though her eyes flickered back and forth between Miles and Rachel a few times. 

Ben was the only one who seemed completely unconscious of the undercurrent in the room but Charlie wasn't so sure that her father simply wasn't a better actor than the rest of them, especially when they were saying goodbye and Ben leaned in to give Nora what wasn't quite a kiss on the cheek and stage-whispered that he had plenty of dirt of Miles if she needed any help keeping him in line. Charlie had almost winced at Rachel's expression but she was pretty sure at least Nora couldn't see it.

But as they walked back into the kitchen where Danny was washing the last of the dishes, Nora dropped into the stool by the counter, all traces of smiles had wiped off her face. "Remind me," she said, her voice leaden, "next time I volunteer to be first through the door in a breech that I really don't like it much." Miles patted her absently on the shoulder and she sighed. "Thanks for not saying 'I told you so.' I appreciate it."

Miles shrugged and Charlie walked over to the fridge to inspect the container of sour cream. It was opened, with several large scoops out of it. "So where did this really come from?"

"I had an attack of good sense -- a little late -- listening to you guys talk while we were upstairs. And yes," Nora glared at Danny, "we really were just going over case notes. But if you thought it she was bound to also. My sister only lives about ten minutes from here so I called her and she ran it over."

"How did you get out?" Bass asked, glancing over at the stairway.

"That tree, by my window, has really good branches," Miles commented and Danny started to laugh, while Nora shrugged, smiling slightly.

"Not bad," Charlie said and Nora shook her head.

"She figured it out eventually. I thought I was going to be dessert and not the ice cream. She seemed a little better after you guys got back but it was weirder too. I don't know how."

"I noticed that too," Miles added and Charlie snorted.

"That's because before we left she just thought you were after Bass," and was rewarded by looks of horror from both Miles and Nora, though Nora looked a lot more guilty. She cut off both their in drawn breaths with a shrug. "What. . .it was a long time ago. Besides," she smiled, "you did tell Miles people survived meeting ex-lovers all the time."

Nora rubbed her face with her hands, venting something that sounded like a cross between a sigh and a groan. "Yeah, but I meant Miles could handle it. You shouldn't have to deal with that sort of crap."

"I'm a Matheson. We deal with all sorts of weird stuff. Why should this be different." She took the seat next to Nora. "Besides, I'd far rather have to put up with someone like you as Bass' ex than be you, having to deal with my Mom as Miles' ex."

"Isn't that the truth," Danny snickered. "And to think, I almost ignored Miles' text."

"How did you get here before your parents?" Miles asked. "I figured you'd all just come together."

"Oh, I wasn't at home when you texted." Danny didn't elaborate and Charlie felt her eyebrows rise.

"Well you weren't at school because you couldn't have made it that quick. . .assuming Miles texted you when he went into the office." Miles nodded. "I didn't think you have any friends that lived on this side of town."

Danny's smile turned into a grin but he shrugged. "I still have a few friends you haven't met," he added and Miles sat up.

"Oh really?" Danny grinned again, patting his Uncle's shoulder. "Like what sort of friends."

"Because the family and friends lunch went over so well today we should do it again? I don't think so." Danny leaned over to kiss Charlie on the cheek. "And on that note, I actually blew one of them off to be here so I'm going to take her out to dinner to make it up to her."

"Thanks for being here," Nora said. "I suspect it could have gone a lot worse."

"Well at least she's met you now," Danny said. "Which means next time she'll be better about hiding the fact she'd like to shiv you in the liver. Eventually she'll forget she hates you." Nora actually shivered and her head started to shake but Danny touched her on the shoulder. "Mom forgives everyone, eventually. Except herself, that is. I don't know if that means anything to you. . . ."

"Actually," Nora's voice was a little stronger. "I do understand that."

"Dating a Matheson certainly isn't for the faint of heart," Bass agreed, which made Nora laugh even when Miles slapped Bass in the back of the head.

"Okay, okay," her uncle snapped, but he was smiling slightly. "Enough with the relationship advice, Doctor Ruth. I'm headed to the office to see if I can put this information together and maybe even come up with a possible suspect." But his arm looped around Nora's back as they walked out the door, Danny following them.

Bass exhaled heavily as the door shut behind them and he dropped onto the bar stool, rubbing at his hip. "Well, that could have gone a lot worse but I'm glad it's over."

"Yeah," Charlie agreed. "My mom getting mad because she thought Nora was after you. It was actually kind of sweet. You okay," she asked suddenly as he winced at one of the passes of his hand over his hip.

He leaned his head against her side, his hand going around her waist. "I'll be okay. I probably overdid it today."

"I don't suppose I could get you to take another pain pill, could I?" She knew she was failing at keeping the concern out of her voice and she felt him shake his head against her side.

"Not a chance. I don't think my throat could take another night like last night. Besides," his lips drifted to her shoulder, working the skin against the neckline of her shirt, "I fell asleep really early last night and I was wondering . . . ."

She felt herself start to grin and she turned her head, lowering it as he brought himself over to kiss her. "Well," she whispered around his mouth, "since dating a Matheson is so hard. . .I suppose there should be some reward." She meant the words jokingly, after what he'd said to Nora, but she froze, wondering if she was pushing to hard to actually label what they were, especially since they'd been careful not to define it. 

But Bass' lips went to her ear rather than pulling away, his hands drifting down to her hips as he murmured. "Damn right it is. But you're totally worth it. Besides, I never meant to imply dating a Monroe was any easier." He stood and crushed her against him, his head dipping into her shoulder. "Granted, if my family had lived." She heard the tears in his voice and she wrapped her arms around him.

"Your sisters would have teased you about dating a girl young enough to be your daughter. . .but they'd have loved me," she prompted back. "Not sure what your parents would have thought, though."

"My parent would have loved you," he whispered and she pulled back enough to see the tears shining in his eyes and caught one of them on her fingers before it could spill down his cheek.

"Good. I'd have loved them too," she said. Her other hand was kneading circles on his shoulder and she dropped both her hands down to his hips, pulling him against her. "I love you."

It wasn't her first time saying it or his first time replying, "I love you too," but it still soothed her to hear the words and feel the desperation in his kiss. She wasn't sure if she was the one who started them towards the stairs or if he was but they were suddenly both moving, fingers still clasped together.

Sex wasn't going to fix the issues in their family, she knew, but it was going to ease her fear that he was going to leave and chase the demons of what he had lost back, at least for a while. And if he took the stairs a little slower than normal, she certainly wasn't going to point it out. She had them both out of their shirts before they got to the top and suddenly he was grinning again as he bent to kiss her, fingers hooking around the straps of her bra as he shut the door to his room with his foot.

Life, she decided, might not be perfect, but if this was what having a messed up family got her, she'd take it.

**Author's Note:**

> Well it has been a long time since I've posted. I have a few fics out there hanging fire with no new updates for months (in fact, I believe there are a few of them had. . .had I gotten pregnant on the day I last posted them, I could have delivered the baby by now. Not that I have nearly so good an excuse for not writing more lately).
> 
> But here at least is another entry in this particular 'verse. When I first published "Matches" it was "Two New Matches" as a nod to the dating-site theme. I eventually realized "Matches" could have a double meaning and shortened it. I have a two more installments planned, working titles of "Primer" and "Igniter." In the meantimes, being Mathesons means something is going to go up in flames, even if it's just illusions about family history.
> 
> Oh, and if anyone actually wants to try Chile Relleno casserole it is a real recipe. There are a lot of versions of it out there but the one I use was the one my mother adapted after she had her gal bladder out when she was in her thirties and couldn't eat fried food anymore. If anyone wants the recipe, email me at sallyportao3@gmail.com and I'd be happy to send it.


End file.
